In every argument you always cross a line

Each win you get still feels like mine

Silence is abundant when we dine

The food you prepared still tastes like it’s mine

You sing off key sounding more like a whine

Those broken notes still sound like they’re mine

You douse yourself in perfume, getting a shine

The overwhelming scent still smell like it’s mine

When you stress you turn to food and wine

All the extra pounds still look like they’re mine

Though we are not always fine

I know you’ll always be mine